


Tea and Sympathy

by stitchy



Series: The Matriarchal Star Wars Redux You Always Wanted [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Family, Grief/Mourning, Leia POV, Mentors, Multi, Poe is Leia Jr, directly post TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6439567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchy/pseuds/stitchy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of TFA, Leia knows it's time round up the Skywalker family- and redefine it a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea and Sympathy

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in what I affectionately call "The Phasmom Universe" but knowledge of it's finer points is not at all necessary. This fic was the third written, but is the first story chronologically. 
> 
> What we have here is just some Leia feelin' her feels and looking after her collection of young persons, with a special emphasis on Poe being her new trio counterpart. If you want to know more about Poe once Finn wakes up- check out [The Colloquium](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5886811), or about Rey being an adopted Skywalker- check out [Queen of Air](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6184219/chapters/14167771). :D
> 
> Beta'ed by StarMaple, my partner in crime!  
> PSA: Betas are great! If you don't have one when you write, solicit one on your blog! If you don't write/aren't too busy writing at the moment, offer to beta for others! It makes a good community and great fic :)

     The _Millennium Falcon_ rises and pulls away from the base, from D’Qar, and from Leia, winking out of sight just beyond the atmosphere. Most of the people who stood by to witness the departure begin to resume their activities, but she lingers, remembering. Leia always hated to see that old bird take off without her, but the heaviness in her heart at the sight is different now. There’s no freighter in the galaxy that can bear the weight of all that’s been taken away from her, she thinks. As the _Falcon_ leaves, all it carries with it is the featherlight, tiny slip of a hope she’s been grasping to ever since she felt the surge of darkness that swallowed up the rest of her most desperate wishes.  
  
     However much it might comfort her to see her brother right now, it would be too much for him, too fast- that’s why she doesn’t go. Bringing Luke home has been central to her plans for a long time, but encouraging Rey to go in her stead was an easy choice to make. The sight of Leia after all this time would only beg questions that answered with the kind of trouble that had sent Luke running in the first place. She couldn’t bear to tell him what else they had lost unless she could return something to him first.

 _“You oughta be able to tell better than I can when you meet her, but I think the girl is Beru.” Han looks thoughtful, strokes his chin. “It’s just a hunch.”_  
  
_“Your hunches are pretty good.” Leia can remember a jaunt across five systems that rewarded them with a shipment’s worth of LE-series droids. That was just a hunch too. “Do you have a plan?”_  
  
_“Nope. I figured I’d let the kid improvise a rescue.”_  
  
_Leia glances at the young man across the command room, talking animatedly to Dameron, who hangs on his every word. “Well he did manage to pluck the Commander off an execution block.”_  
_  
“People still meet the old fashioned way, huh?” Han grins._

_There were another pair of young men clad in enemy armor, once upon a time. She owed more of her happiness to them than she ever could have predicted at first sight. Leia nods, and reaches out a hand to straighten the collar of Han’s shirt. “Steer clear of any garbage chutes."_

     The D’Qar sky shows no sign of what Leia can expect next, no matter how long she stands on the tarmac and stares after Rey and the _Falcon_. She has her hopes, certainly. Maybe when Luke sees that the little girl he had taken in and then lost has been restored to him, it will awaken his longing for what remains of the family. When he comes back, then they can work together to heal the damage done by her son. It’s useless to regret how guilt and sorrow had paralyzed her when all this began years ago, so all she can do now is refuse to make the same mistake twice. Even in diminished numbers, they’ve always been stronger together. The darkness edges closer every day, and there’s no more time for licking wounds- all of the Skywalkers need to brought back into the fold.

     There’s still no word from them a week later, but no painful wave in the Force to mark their demise, either. It’s enough, Leia tells herself. Enough to be getting on with. There’s plenty to do in the meanwhile.

     The Resistance is in the midst of erecting a security grid around D’Qar that will cloak them from detection by the First Order. In their haste to deal with the threat of Starkiller, the recon flight had tipped their hand and vaguely revealed the Ileenium System to be their home. Even with the weapon destroyed, the Resistance base is a sitting target. Without even the crippled New Republic's trickle of financial support, it was too costly to uproot the fleet, and much too conspicuous. Every day, the X-wing patrols pick off scouts that are searching the sector one megalight at a time, hoping to blindly stumble upon the base.

     It used to be there were a tableful of pilots anytime Leia ventured into the mess hall, but between the casualties they had taken last week and the exhaustive patrol schedules, lately it seems there’s only ever one pilot at a time. The particular pilot slumped in his chair when she passes by is none other than the hero of the hour. As a follow up to the remarkable assault on Starkiller base, he’s more than just maintaining his ace record, he’s nearly doubling and tripling it by the day.  
  
     “I’m surprised to see you here, Poe.” She sits down across from him, setting her tea to cool on the table between them.

     He looks like hell. Dark rings weigh down his eyes which are usually bright and mischievous, but now blink heavily and threaten sleep. It’s clear just how little time he’s spent out of uniform- his civilian shirt is still creased from being folded, barely worn. Poe breathes in deeply as the aroma of Leia’s tea wafts pleasantly in the air. “Did you think I might cash in and get a nice, safe job at a fuel station?” He laughs halfheartedly.  
  
     “Nothing so mundane,” Leia smirks. “I figure The First Order would pay you to stop disintegrating their warbirds, at least.”  
  
     “Wish they would. I could take the credits upfront and fund our relocation.” Poe prods at his plate, half full and evidently cooling ever since he lost the will to carry out the simple task of shoveling it into his mouth.

     Leia pushes her tea across the table, into his hand. “You need it more than I do,” she says, patting it. “I just meant that you’ve been taking most of your downtime in the medbay.”

     Despite how wan exhaustion has made him, Poe blushes. “I got kicked out. There might have been something said about sleeping in a bunk instead of hunched over a patient.”

     “Those doctors. They sure do have opinions about how much rest people need,” Leia says knowingly. She’s well aware that she and Poe aren’t just _any people_ , however. Their shared restlessness was part of why she picked him as her protege in the first place. Not everyone could keep up with her, and even fewer bothered to try.

     “It’s just easier to relax there. Like I’m not wasting time?” Poe sips the tea, thinking. “When I’m in the air, I’m keeping an eye on everything I care about, but when I’m down here I can only manage one thing at a time. If I’m holed up in my quarters that thing is _me-_ and that’s... not enough,” Poe mutters, clearly embarrassed.

     Leia laughs, scandalizing him. “I can’t decide if I wish I had ten Poe Damerons, or if you’d all be too busy kicking your own tails and being too critical of yourselves to get anything done.” Poe huffs a laugh. “It’s okay to fight for Something _and_ Someone, you know. It can make you both stronger.”  
  
     “Mostly it feels like flying around without a hull,” says Poe.

     “That too,” Leia agrees. The more spread out from the center vulnerabilities get, the harder it is to put a shield up around everything. As he sips tea, Poe shivers in his shirtsleeves, too weary to hold back the chill. “Dameron, you’re making me cold, you should put on a jacket.” Usually she is sparing with maternal invocations, but the sight of this young man, miserably tired and out of sorts gets the best of her. “- I know Shara raised you with better sense.”  
  
     Instead of prickling, Poe softens, smiles back. “My jacket, well- I haven’t had a chance to get to a market for a new one, yet.”

     Leia simply stands, beckoning him to rise with her. “Follow me.”  
  
     They wind through a network of twisting corridors made of millennia old, cracking stone that seems to be held together only by optimism and the webbed vines on every wall. Her quarters are close to the command room, and it’s only when they pass it that Poe finally reacts in surprise. Leia makes a flourishing gesture toward the door.

     “I don’t have all day. Reports to process, you know.”  
  
     “Right.”

     Poe steps into the room ahead of her, tucking his hands in his pockets to keep them to himself, because there is plenty to touch. Whenever there’s something worth examining it ends up taking up space here until Leia figures out who will make the best use of it. At the moment in addition to her own personal belongings, there is a crate of detonators for an outmoded missile system, a deactivated class three tutor droid with busted monoculars, massive rolls of purple flimsiplast, and a hydraulic shearing machine. Hanging from a pipe in the corner are several fine gowns that haven’t seen much use in the past ten years, right alongside a number of bandoliers that still holster brutish weapons. Propped up against a wall by a computation bench is a tall looking-glass with a chair pulled up in front of it, for doing her hair, with a scattering of ribbons and leather bands looped into it’s fancy, metal wrought edges. Dozens of holocubes stand in precarious stacks by her bunkside, at least five of them still open and projecting images into the room. Poe’s eyes are wide at the sight of the mess.

     “Not quite what you imagined?” Leia shoves her knee into the crate of detonators to get it out of her way. There’s another container behind it that holds what she’s looking for. Scrambling to be a gentleman, Poe drags the crate out of her path, eyeing it warily.

     “It’s just... more like my own quarters than I had expected,” he says.

     Leia smiles privately, hunched over the container while she taps in the lock sequence. The shape of it is low and long, made to be filled and loaded into a cargo slot like a mausoleum drawer. It may have been a stasis chamber, once upon a time, but all the markings that indicated its original purpose had long ago been chipped away. The lid opens with a hiss, proving the battered old container is still air-tight. It hinges open automatically, revealing the contents and Leia kneels in front of it with Poe promptly joining her. She hands him scrolls and holoimage emitters to put aside as they dig deep to things she hasn’t seen in over twenty years. There’s a too-small white dress folded over a collection of child sized tunics, a number of brightly colored blocks that twist apart and reconfigure into puzzles, a furry doll, and other toys. Things she kept incase of having another child, initially- then as the years passed, grandchildren.

     “Hey, I know this guy.” Poe lifts a little gold painted figurine, it’s jointed arms and legs swinging as stiffly as it’s real world counterpart.

     “My son loved that droid more than anyone else in galaxy, which is crazy because it’s a wonder he even existed with Threepio interrupting _all the time._ ” Leia sighs.  
  
     “I remember,” says Poe, softly. Then he suddenly looks away, filing through some of the holoimages determinedly, though he’s clearly still uncertain what Leia is looking for. It’s an apologetic motion.

     For similar reasons as to why Leia does her best not to reminisce about the late Shara Bey too often, Poe has always refrained from mentioning his boyhood friendship with Ben. As some of the only children on Yavin 4 when it was first colonized, they’d bonded as best they could, even if they didn’t always get along. Ben was a bit younger and more serious, while Poe was outgoing and outdoorsy. It was always up to him to get her son to break out of his shell a bit, and find something to do other than shadow Threepio, who had been around more often than she was, back then. In the years following Shara’s death things picked up with the Senate, and she and Han were on Yavin 4 less and less, until finally they sent Ben to study with Luke and gave up their homestead. That was when Leia had first packed this container.

     “I kept some family heirlooms, since I never had many myself,” Leia says. She doesn’t need to draw any lines between the dots of Alderaan disappearing with all of her possessions and that statement, Poe just nods.  
  
     “Nien Nunb will tell _anyone_ , whether they ask or not, about how you so very graciously gave him your mother’s necklace, though. He’s very proud of it. It’s mounted in his quarters and everything.” Poe mimes a frame with his hands, grinning.

     Leia laughs. “Well, Nien is family.” Finally she finds the thing she was looking for, her fingers reaching soft brown leather, still buttery to the touch despite the years. As she hoists it out of the container several more holos tumble around it, and Leia stands up to shake it out, Poe getting to his feet as well. Freed from its hibernation, Leia holds up the jacket to his shoulders. “There was a time I would have pinned a medal on you for Starkiller, but I’m fresh out. Least I can do is give you a jacket.”

     Poe is uncharacteristically silent, eyes wide. “Ah-?”  
  
     “It’s not doing anyone any good in a box!” Leia nudges him until he turns around to shrug the jacket on with her help. Poe navigates around the crates on the floor of the room to the looking-glass, checking his reflection.

     “It wasn’t... General Solo’s, was it?” Poe smoothes the lapels and twists on his feet to see the figure it cuts from the side.  
  
     Leia crosses her arms and smiles. “It was mine first, actually. I needed something to blend in with the Nagai and senatorial robes weren’t cutting it. The sleeves were always too long for me though, so when Han stole it I let him keep it.”

     There were a few more items of his clothing in the container still- they had never quite settled into having a home to unpack everything into, after Yavin 4. For years it had been ship after ship, sometimes broken up by borrowed weekends of pretending to be a real person while visiting the home of an ally. The base on D’Qar was the longest she’d had her boots on a planet since then, probably. Now that they’d decided to dig in and cloak the planet instead of running, stay to make something of it, it _was_ home, wasn’t it?  And after so many trials, the people of the Resistance were all related by invention now, a collection of worldless orphans and widows- a family to fill it.

     Leia peers down into the container, considering. She thought it might feel strange to see someone else wearing the jacket, but compared to what? Holding onto it for her son to have, if he ever came back to her? In light of what had just happened, the image of Ben in Han’s things seems unlikely, and honestly- unwelcome.

     “You know what, Poe? Your friend is going to need some new things when he wakes up. Why don’t you take the rest.” Leia bites her tongue to keep from saying more, and Poe whips around, stunned.

     “Really? You wouldn’t rather- I mean. He’ll appreciate that. Thank you.” Unsure how to react, Poe bows his head in sincerity, holding back, but Leia just steps closer and pulls him into a hug.

     “You both are so welcome, dear. Always.” She squeezes him tight, then lets go, looking up at Poe’s plainly tired face, still undisguisable despite him generally looking more put together with an outer layer. “Now, get your things together and go listen to doctor’s orders. I’ll check in on Finn while I read reports later,” she says, tugging Poe’s collar straight.

     Leia bends and grabs a heap to pile Poe’s arms full of clothes before he can argue. Once he’s loaded up she wishes him a goodnight and ushers him out the door, then turns back to the room, now filled with slightly fewer things that still need a home.

 


End file.
